


Bright and Vivid Colors

by OneTooManyDots



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (it's not going inside anybody though to be clear), Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Fluff, Leonie and Raphael are barely there really, M/M, body painting, they're a bit shy but they're doing their best, use of a paintbrush for sexy purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneTooManyDots/pseuds/OneTooManyDots
Summary: The soft slide of the brush crossed his spine twice in one long stroke, and Lorenz sighed against the pillow. From the open window, a breeze – reminiscent of a cool summer night after the exceptionally warm day, as though the term should have ended weeks ago – flowed over him pleasantly, chilling his skin where the paint was still damp.--Lorenz gets perhaps a bit too comfortable in Ignatz's bed, and ends up staying the night. Ignatz's roommates don't mind too much. Ignatz doesn't seem to mind at all.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Bright and Vivid Colors

The soft slide of the brush crossed his spine twice in one long stroke, and Lorenz sighed against the pillow. From the open window, a breeze – reminiscent of a cool summer night after the exceptionally warm day, as though the term should have ended weeks ago – flowed over him pleasantly, chilling his skin where the paint was still damp.

“You’re not getting too uncomfortable?” Ignatz’s hand was warm against his back as he tried to caress away tension that didn’t exist, careful not to smudge any of his most recent additions. “Sorry, I’ll be done soon.”

“No,” Lorenz mumbled, not daring to move his head and disturb Ignatz’s work. “This feels quite nice. Please, take all the time you need.”

“That’s good.” Ignatz’s tone was as warm as his hand had been. He painted another bold line, from the lowest of Lorenz’s ribs to right under his shoulder blade, then his weight on Lorenz’s legs shifted as he reached on the bedside table for a different brush. He was quiet again as he added smaller details along Lorenz’s left side. As focused as Lorenz knew him to be when he had a picture in his mind and a canvas under his brush, even though they were doing this on a whim, and this would be an ephemeral sort of artwork.

Ignatz’s attention made him feel… Oh, like something pliant, or melted. Like something precious. His clever metaphors all dissolved, half formed, as soon as he closed his eyes, and he couldn’t seem to pick one out of the resulting jumble.

There was not a sound to be heard other than the rustle of fabric that accompanied Ignatz’s movements and Lorenz’s own breathing, loud in his ears from his nose and mouth being buried in Ignatz’s bedding. Even the street outside outside of Ignatz’s apartment was oddly quiet, or perhaps it was too late for even Ignatz’s rowdy neighbors – mostly other college students – to be out and about doing whatever it was they usually did loudly on week nights. Lorenz had lost track of time, as he sometimes did, when their study session turned into a conversation about everything and nothing and the nature of art, and Ignatz’s passion overcame his shyness and made his eyes light up in that captivating way they did.

But it must be very late, as the sun had long set and the dimness of the room, the pleasant glide of Ignatz’s brush on his skin, the grounding pressure of Ignatz sitting on his thighs and the slow, even rhythm of his own breath were lulling him so sleep. It was rather forward, wasn’t it, spending half the night in Ignatz’s bed without a formal invitation? His vast knowledge of etiquette failed him there, but it must be. If Ignatz had complaints, he hadn’t voiced any of them.

There were quick, precise strokes between Lorenz’s shoulder blades. The bed creaked when Ignatz leaned to reach his cup of water. Lorenz’s own bed didn’t creak, and it was big enough for Ignatz to fit next to him without needing to straddle him. His own place had air conditioning, and all of the furniture matched, and he had no roommates sleeping right on the other side of cardboard thin walls. And yet Ignatz’s tiny bedroom, with it’s ugly beige walls and it’s mess of art supplies upon every surface, was where they had made a habit of meeting. It was here that he and Ignatz had kissed for the first time, sitting on Ignatz’s bed to review his notes together. That must be what granted the room it’s unique aura of intimacy.

It was also here, not so long ago, that for the first time Lorenz had kneeled on the floor between Ignatz’s legs, next to a stack of old sketchbooks. Much like now, the room had smelled faintly of paint. He had been clumsy, but he had been eager, and Ignatz hadn’t seemed to mind. Ignatz had blushed bright red, gently tucked Lorenz’s hair behind his ear, and Lorenz had hoped that his love still shone through his awkwardness because he had been just about ready to burst with it.

“Lorenz.”

Ignatz’s voice was so sweet when he called his name, it felt like part of a dream.

“Lorenz, don’t fall asleep.” He squeezed his hip, and Lorenz hummed.

“I am awake.” At least, he was now. He might have drifted off. “Are you finished?”

“Not yet.” Little outward strokes, all over Lorenz’s lower back. “And then we still have to clean up. I’m really sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Please, don’t apologize.” Very carefully, Lorenz took one of his hand from under the pillow to rub at his face. “This was mostly my idea.”

“It’s turning out pretty good, I think.” An insistent swirl, over and over, above Lorenz’s hip. “I’m almost done. I think you’re going to like it.”

“Of course I will. I have yet to see a finished work of yours that did not take my breath away.”

That made Ignatz chuckle, but Lorenz still considered it an improvement over how he used to react to compliments by downplaying how much they were deserved. He liked to believe he had something to do with it.

“Hmm.” Ignatz tugged at the hem of Lorenz’s pants. “I need a bit more room. Do you mind if I take these off?”

“Oh, I – No, not at all.” Lorenz was suddenly wide awake, and very aware of where his mind had been straying.

Perhaps it was silly that the idea of Ignatz undressing him was enough to make him flustered, but their intimacy was somewhat new, and this was more confidence than Ignatz usually showed when asking this sort of question. Regardless of the context, Lorenz found he liked that quite a lot.

So Ignatz stood up, and Lorenz did the best he could to help him reach underneath him to unfasten his pants while staying relatively still. He thought he heard Ignatz’s breath catch when he pressed his palm to his front and found him less than fully soft. Swallowing his embarrassment, Lorenz chanced to let a quiet moan pass his lips, so Ignatz would know that his touch was more than welcome. This time, he was sure he heard Ignatz take a sharp breath. Ignatz’s hand lingered, and he felt for the outline of Lorenz’s half hard cock.

“I’m almost done,” Ignatz said again, like a promise, as he cupped his hand around him.

“No need to rush,” Lorenz answered, even as he rocked his hips into Ignatz’s touch. A new draft of night air did not quite manage to cool his cheeks.

Maybe Ignatz really needed to take his underwear off as well, or maybe he was feeling bold. He always did seem more sure of himself with a paintbrush in hand, Lorenz thought, with a hot shiver of arousal. Ignatz straddled him again, the fabric of his pants slightly rough against Lorenz’s naked legs, and Lorenz barely managed not to squirm when Ignatz’s weight pressed his pelvis to the mattress, but Ignatz’s touch was nothing but purposeful. The next line started at the swell of Lorenz’s ass and went up.

“Just a little more.”

There was a rare hint of impatience in Ignatz’s voice, but no sign of it in the controlled movements of the paint brush. After a moment, Lorenz felt the press of something hard behind him as Ignatz leaned over, little clustered pokes of the tip of the brush in different places, before Ignatz put the brush down with finality.

Lorenz tried to picture Ignatz’s expression – critical, no doubt, as he examined his work. Lustful, dare he hope, as Ignatz caressed his flank.

“Alright.” Both of Ignatz’s hands left him as he grabbed something from the table. “Hold on, let me just…”

The artificial shutter noise sounded once. Twice.

“A souvenir?” Lorenz asked, pleased. Ignatz wasn’t usually one for taking pictures, and Lorenz had been prepared to have to convince him to make an exception.

“So I can show you.” Ignatz got up again, and already Lorenz missed the soothing pressure. “I don’t know how well it’s going hold up when you move. This is definitely the wrong kind of paint for this.”

“Ah, that’s right. You said as much before we started.”

Attempting to push himself up on his elbows made the dry paint pull at his skin, so Lorenz settled for turning his head to the side. It would be a shame to destroy Ignatz’s work any earlier than he had to, before he got the chance to admire the look of it in the mirror.

Ignatz kept his gaze firmly two inches to the right of Lorenz’s face when he kneeled at the foot of the bed to show Lorenz his phone.

“Oh.” Lorenz had always admired the way Ignatz painted flowers, but this was a wholly different experience. With the completed picture before his eyes, it was as if Lorenz could feel every petal and every leaf. He traced them in his memory, the graceful curves of green, the luxurious twists of blue, every gentle curl of the reds, every swerve of the yellows. “Ignatz, this is wonderful.”

“Kind of simple, maybe, but,” Ignatz finally met his eyes, “it suits you.”

“It does,” Lorenz said, honestly. “It’s gorgeous.”

It truly was, and it deserve much better praise, but Ignatz effectively sent the sentence Lorenz was meticulously constructing crashing down to the bottom of his priorities by biting his bottom lip nervously and saying, “So, if you still want to…”

“I do,” Lorenz replied, too fast. “If you want,” he added, uselessly.

Ignatz kissed the corner of his mouth, awkward and lopsided from the angle. When he got up, and his crotch was briefly at Lorenz’s eye level, it was apparent that he did _want_. 

What was Lorenz’s selfish desire to have Ignatz’s art on his skin in the face of his lover’s need? After Ignatz indulged him so well, Lorenz would let all of the paint crumble away if he had to, to please him in any way he wanted. But what Ignatz seemed to want was for him to stay put, and spread his legs wide enough for him to sit between them. And something more, Lorenz guessed from the way Ignatz ran his hands hesitantly along the inside of his thighs.

“If there is something you would like us to do, you need only ask.” He didn’t quite manage to keep his tone light, but Ignatz must have already seen how desperately hard he was just from envisioning the answer to that question.

“Um…” Ignatz’s hands moved to his backside, then back over his thighs, and Lorenz could only hope that he was as flustered by the view as Lorenz was over the possibility of him doing something about it. “Can I try something weird?”

“Anything you want,” Lorenz answered, in his most encouraging tone. None of Lorenz’s guesses about what Ignatz might want were things he wouldn’t like, and right now it wasn’t from a lack of imagination on his part.

“Alright. Okay.”

There was the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and some more shuffling Lorenz couldn’t interpret.

“Could you get on your knees please? If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Lorenz said, although he blushed at how much more exposed that would make him, and complied. Ignatz too was blushing when he turned to look, which made him feel better, and, given the circumstances, Lorenz welcomed the staring. “Like this?”

“Yes, this is good.” Ignatz touched his back lightly, perhaps where some of the paint had chipped. “You look good.”

If Ignatz liked to look, who was he to deny him, Lorenz thought, and spread his knees wider.

“Oh, and this is lube, not paint.”

Lorenz opened his mouth to ask, but before he could, he felt the cool, wet slide of a paintbrush, down the cleft of his ass, over his hole, over his balls, along the underside of his cock, all the way to the tip.

“Aah?”

When he peeked back, Ignatz’s expression was apologetic. “Sorry. Was that too weird?”

The brush in his hand was a larger one, which Lorenz had never seen him use, and the soft bristles glistened in the low light.

“No.” It was, Lorenz decided immediately, the perfect level of weird. His ears burned, but he still managed to say, “No, you can keep going.”

This time, Ignatz started at his cock. Holding it in place with his other hand, he circled around the head once before following the same already slippery track along the shaft. Attentive, he doubled back over his balls a few time when Lorenz made a noise, soft and wet. Like a small tongue, Lorenz thought, indecently, thighs tensing from his effort to stay still. He could not hold back the roll of his hip s as Ignatz dragged the brush slowly over his perineum, and his relieved sigh when it finally reached his ass again.

“Yeah?” Ignatz asked, breathless, with one more experimental swipe of the brush against his hole.

“Yes!” It came out of him as more of a whine than a word.

Emboldened, Ignatz used his other hand to give himself more room as he drew slow, precise circles around Lorenz’s rim. The softness felt heavenly on Lorenz’s slightly stretched, sensitive skin. With seemingly infinite patience, Ignatz poked and teased until Lorenz was panting, sometimes with the tiniest touches of the tip of the brush, and sometimes with nice long strokes of the flat side.

Lorenz would have been content with letting Ignatz do this until he tired of it, he really would have, if his neglected cock wasn’t throbbing against his stomach, so unavoidably hard. He tilted his hips back against yet another careful slide of the brush, the wet bristles offering no resistance.

“Ignatz, please–”

“What?” Ignatz asked, anxious. Eager.

_ Fuck me  _ stayed stuck in Lorenz’s throat, the shape of the word too alien in his mouth. 

“Inside” is what he said instead, but it must have been enough for Ignatz to understand, because he pulled away. The soft _clack_ from the tube of lubricant’s lid opening and closing made Lorenz shiver like no sound ever did.

After the delicate teasing of the paintbrush, and all of the anticipation, the firm press of one of Ignatz’s finger was so satisfying that Lorenz could have cried, and the noise he made may have sounded like a sob when Ignatz pushed inside him to the knuckle in one slow movement. It shouldn’t have felt so different from his own tentative exploration, and yet it felt like  _ more _ , and so much deeper, even though it shouldn’t be. 

“Oh,” Ignatz said when Lorenz clenched around him, not completely intentionally. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” He braced himself more solidly on his arms, and leaned back against Ignatz’s hand, gaining maybe half of half an inch of depth. “Yes yes yes.”

“Like this?”

Oh,  _ oh _ , and then Ignatz started to  _ move _ , and Lorenz forgot how to shut up. His answer wasn’t the most articulate, but it was loud, and when it devolved into continuous moaning, Ignatz answered him with a kiss, and with little sounds of his own. Lorenz knew, in a corner of his mind, that it was terribly late, and he should keep his voice down, but how could he, when each thrust of Ignatz’s finger was good and deep and so,  _ so _ good? He needed Ignatz to know not to stop.

Lorenz’s body was still too tense, a fact not helped at all by how close he already was, and the stretch Ignatz’s second finger was rough, but the added width was so delicious that he couldn’t bring himself to ask Ignatz to stop. This had been easier when he imagined it, and really Ignatz’s hands were not that large, and suddenly he was glad that Ignatz couldn’t look at his face to see his frustration. Thankfully, Ignatz was observant, and he didn’t try to move too harshly, and maybe, maybe this would be fine. The rhythmic press of the pad of his fingers where Lorenz was most sensitive had him feeling like he could tip himself right over the edge if only he could focus on it just right, and yet, and yet...

Lorenz’s orgasm almost took him by surprise, seconds after Ignatz wrapped a slick, merciful hand around his cock. He jerked from the force of it, his entire body tightening around Ignatz’s fingers, and Ignatz’s little kisses to the side of his ass soothed him through the tremors.

With one last sweet kiss to Lorenz’s ass cheek, Ignatz pulled his fingers out. Lorenz watched lazily as Ignatz wiggled out of his pants with some amount of urgency.

“Can you stay like this a bit longer?” He went back into position behind Lorenz, not quite close enough to touch, like he didn’t dare.

“You don’t want my help?” Lorenz offered, although he was still blinking away the floaty feeling of his afterglow.

“You, uh, already helped a lot.” The sounds of skin sliding against skin made Lorenz wish dearly that he could at least watch Ignatz pleasure himself, but he wasn’t about to refuse him this last indulgence. “I… I don’t think this will take very long.”

Not one to be satisfied with just laying there, Lorenz reached behind him and spread himself apart, to at least give Ignatz a better view.

“Fuck,” Ignatz whispered, almost too quiet to hear.

True to his word, Ignatz didn’t need much more time. He rubbed the silky head of his cock against the slippery curve of Lorenz’s ass, and, soon after an answering thrust of Lorenz’s hips made it catch on his rim, he came with a quiet “Ah!”.

  
  


“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Ignatz grabbed a fresh tissue from the box and dabbed at Lorenz’s back some more. His hard work was surely ruined, but Lorenz appreciate his efforts to preserve as much of it as possible nonetheless.

“I suppose we both got carried away,” Lorenz conceded.

The whole street might well have heard how much he enjoyed himself. Goddess, what time was it? He could check on his phone, but he did not truly want to know.

“Haha! I guess we did.”

Paint stained tissues joined the lubricant covered paint brush in the waste basket.

“I promise I won’t make a habit of being loud enough for your entire building to hear,” Lorenz said, his sense of shame finally catching up with him. “Why, it must have been the hour, or the mood…”

“It’s fine! I kind of liked it, it was very encouraging. And it’s a good way to know I’m doing things you like if I can’t see your face.” He took Lorenz’s hand in his own. “So don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, you are sweet,” Lorenz said, because it was true.

“We really should clean up now, and go to bed.” Ignatz smiled at him shyly, and Lorenz’s heart melted. “Well, if you want to stay…?”

With a flourish and a dramatic kiss on his hand, Lorenz assured him that he would love nothing more.

  
  


“It truly is a shame to wash it off so soon.”

Lorenz strained his neck a bit further, to see as much as his back as possible in the bathroom mirror. Some if the paint on his shoulders had cracked when he got up, and more when he pulled his pants back on. Part of the picture was smudged.

“Although, in retrospect, this was really a silly thing to do.”

“I still think it was worth it. I had fun.” Ignatz’s voice was almost drowned out by rush of water from the bath faucet.

Well, people did some silly things when they were in love, did they not? Lorenz had read many beautiful words on the subject, had even tried his hand at writing some. And yet, when Ignatz turned to him and smiled, soapy washcloth in hand, he had t o admit to himself that his understanding of the matter had been woefully in adequate until just now.

It took some time to get all of the paint off with Lorenz sitting on the edge of the bathtub trying not to get unnecessarily wet. Some of the color still stained Lorenz’s skin and some leftover traces of red would need to be scrubbed off the aging porcelain enamel. Lorenz’s insistence on claiming a kiss from Ignatz’s lips every time his passed within reach didn’t help, but, in his defense, Ignatz was being exceedingly accommodating in that regard.

  
  


Leonie stared at them over her glass of water as they walked past the kitchen. She put the glass down, and Lorenz readied himself to comment on her less than modest attire if she said anything about him being shirtless in her hallway, but, thankfully, she didn’t.

“Don’t you guys have class in, uh.” She glanced at the glowing numbers on the microwave’s display. Lorenz followed her gaze, and winced. “Six hours?”

“Yeah,” Ignatz said, wearily, like all he had needed was the reminder to suddenly feel as exhausted as the hour warranted.

“Did we wake you?” Lorenz asked, because it was both too late and too early for her to be up.

He regretted his good manners as soon as saw the look in her eyes.

“You sure did!”

It would probably be naive of him to assume that the running water was what did it.

“My apologies –”

“And you were loud as hell about it, too.” And it was rude of her to point it out, but what did Lorenz expect. She grinned. “But you can make it up to me by getting all of us some muffins from downstairs.”

He might have stood there for much longer, arguing that this was no way to bring up such a delicate subject and that he would  _ gladly _ and  _ willingly _ have gotten her anything she wanted from the bakery if only she had  _ asked, _ if Ignatz hadn’t failed to stifle a yawn.

  
  


All of Ignatz’s sleep pants left Lorenz’s ankles bare, but he supposed it would have to do. Ignatz didn’t own a shirt that wouldn’t be too tight at the shoulders, but, even with the window open, the heat of two bodies was sure to keep the bed more than warm enough. Besides, after spending most of the night bare chested, Lorenz could not think of a rational reason to insist on sleeping with a shirt on. Ignatz didn’t seem to mind at all.

Sleeping together on Ignatz’s single bed was a tight fit, but they made it work.

“Do you want me to delete the pictures?” Ignatz mumbled against his collar bone.

“What? No!” Remembering that Ignatz had his ear pressed to his chest, Lorenz, lowered his voice to a whisper. “On the contrary, I want you to cherish them. I know _I_ will, after you send them to me, which you absolutely must do as soon as we wake up.” 

With a hum of acknowledgment, Ignatz drew the covers up to his chin and curled up tighter against Lorenz’s side. The size of the bed didn’t seem like much of an inconvenience at the moment, though Lorenz might change his mind once the novelty wore off. For now, he was perfectly content with falling asleep while holding Ignatz close.

Maybe he could convince Ignatz to let him buy him a new, bigger bed, he thought, only half coherently, while slipping his hand under the old t-shirt Ignatz slept in. Maybe the kind with drawers underneath. That seemed sensible. More storage space. Somewhere for Lorenz to keep a set of proper pajamas.

  
  


After a few insufficient hours of sleep, Lorenz got everyone muffins for breakfast. As well as danishes and croissants, mostly out of the kindness of his heart and only a little bit to prove a point in the face of Leonie’s teasing. She did stop after that (mostly) and thanked him. It was a small price to pay to keep the peace as far as Lorenz was concerned, and he congratulated himself on dealing with the situation diplomatically. She and Raphael would certainly make sure that none of it went to waste.

Raphael was delighted by Lorenz’s presence, and insisted on frying eggs for everyone, despite Lorenz’s protests. Breakfast quickly turned into a whole ordeal, but it seemed easier to go along with it than fight it, especially once bacon became involved. After trying and failing to find four matching cups, Lorenz wondered if he could negotiate cupboard space for one of his tea sets. Only he and Raphael could reach the higher shelves without issue, and Ignatz always appreciated it when he made them tea. He was sure he could make a strong case.

At Lorenz’s urging, Ignatz’s phone was passed around the table. Both Raphael and Leonie had nothing but praise for Ignatz’s attention to detail and choice of colors, of course, as that was the proper amount of awe Ignatz’s talent should inspire. (Leonie may have directed something snarky at him, which he nobly chose to ignore, being the bigger person.) By the time Lorenz had to go home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before their morning classes, Ignatz didn’t look half as much like he wanted the ground to swallow him, and Lorenz felt a glow of pride.

Upon realizing that he had turned into the sort of person who arrives to class 15 minutes late, with his barely dry hair in a ponytail, a thermos of strong black tea in hand, Lorenz couldn’t find it in himself to worry about it overly much.

**Author's Note:**

> I need practice so of course I wrote this instead of something normal. Should this thing really have five consecutive useless epilogues? Absolutely not! I have no self control.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
